Scooby Porn & Hef's Mom

My youngest son, Rhett, worries me.

He is charming, almost to a fault, handsome as hell, in love with his own penis, and today, I confirmed, the female form.

He is currently taking swimming lessons and as he is three, I take him into the women's change room to get him ready.  However, I think today may have been the end of that.  I say this because I practically had to put him in some sort of illegal hold to keep him from ogling a woman in the room who was changing.  Some of you are thinking I need to get the stick out of my ass and accept his natural curiousity.  However, I think he's past curious.

It was about a year ago when his penis fixation was at it's highest point.  Check out Do You Have a Penis?;  I think this will provide you with some valuable background information.  Anyway, he's now less concerned with who has a penis and who doesn't and has settled into an easy acceptance of his own good fortune of having one.

Case in point, last week I was working in the dining room.  He and I were the only ones home and he was watching TV in the living room.  I needed a Kleenex and went into the living room to get one.   Instead of finding Kleenex I found Rhett, underwear down, leisurely 'enjoying' himself whilst watching Scooby Doo.  He was unconcerned.  When he realized I noticed what he was doing he broke out into what could almost be described as a sly smile.

I'm all for healthy sexuality and didn't want to make him uncomfortable but did suggest that he move to his bedroom.  His response? "No.  I like it here."  Okay then.  I guess who's to argue?  When you're 3 1/2 and have the good fortune of being a boy with a penis and you can hang out and watch Scooby  Doo and 'explore' said penis, then why not?  He did have the room to himself... I was clearly in the wrong as I was the intruder.

I don't change in front of him anymore.  That too had gotten past the point of natural curiousity  and his mission to see me in the buff was a little too unsettling.  Although maybe not quite as unsettling as watching one's three and a half year old ogle another woman while she changed.  My other two boys, who are now 16 and 7, would've looked too.  They would've looked and then they would've carried on. 

Rhett was mesmerized by this woman's ass. 

Therefore, I advised Ryan, my husband, that from now on, he will be getting Rhett ready for swimming in the men's change room. 

So that takes care of that.  What it doesn't take care of his adolescence.  He's turning four in May.  Hormones haven't even come into play yet.  I'm 33, soon to be 34.  I currently have a 16 year old and a 14 year old.  Forget 2 a.m. feedings, teenagers will wear you down with their mind games.  And my teenagers, by most standards, are 'good'.  So, in ten years or so, after surviving three other teenagers at that point, I don't know if I'll have any game left.  That, coupled with the fact Rhett already has me wrapped around his little finger means I'm fucked.

So here's what I'm asking:  in the next ten years ago can someone please invent a viable male birth control pill?  Perhaps a condom that can be left on at all times?  A Grape Vodka patch (this, of course, would be a little something for me)...  Any and all other suggestions can be left in the comment section.  Thanking you in advance, I, Penny Lane, mother to a junior Hugh Hefner in the making.